Over time, a rich assortment of people and their stories found their way to the picturesque Malay island. However, nothing that had come before could quite compare with the arrival of Marie David de Mayréna, Comte de Ray.

Notorious for his exploits and outrageous character, Marie's colourful life was captured in a book entitled Heroes in Exile (1928). Its author, Hugh Clifford, Pahang's first British Resident and a contemporary of the bold, eccentric Frenchman recorded an entertaining account of his escapades. With the help of Clifford's eloquent prose the following saga and its ties to Tioman is revealed. The author begins this tale by vividly describing the man who would be king. A commanding presence in whatever company he kept, Marie looked the part of the fierce warrior he often played:

He was of heroic build, very long in the leg and broad in the shoulder with black hair and moustache. There was power in every line of that face, in the hard, determined, cruel mouth, the dark and heavy eyebrows which nearly joined one another across the bridge of the nose; ... in the eyes themselves, keen, fierce, piercing, and cynical. He was an excellent shot, of great bodily strength, a man of violent passions, and uncontrollable temper...

However, unlike most simple men of war Marie had a charisma befitting a statesman. He also had an exceedingly large ego with aspirations to match. This combination took him across countries and ultimately landed him in Cochin China (in modern day Vietnam). There he earned the allegiance of a small local tribe. He impressed the "wild people of a little cluster of Native States" with his unmatched courage and mesmerising personality. Eventually these people of Sedang elected Marie to be their King.

Inspiring both fear and respect from his subjects, the King injected an unprecedented measure of peace and goodwill into their lives. Such civilised behaviour from the turbulent tribesman engendered admiration amongst the local French missionaries. The King then cleverly cemented his fellow countrymen's loyalty by decreeing Catholicism to be the State religion of the Sedangs. Meanwhile he publicly declared himself to be a follower of Allah in alliance with his subjects who were mostly Muslim.

Marie, King of the Sedangs, took his new role quite seriously and spared no effort creating a royal image. He even insisted on such details as a personally designed flag for the kingdom and magnificently regal attire. However, these concerns were trivial compared to his global aspirations of creating a dynasty "equal [in] rank with other independent Asiatic principalities". In order to accomplish this he had to leave behind the thirteenth century atmosphere that his kingdom embodied and rejoin the realities of the nineteenth century.

Catapulting the land of the Sedangs into the modern world order would require raising both capital and recognition for his tiny monarchy. Consequently, Marie set off on a journey that was as daring as it was ultimately disastrous. Before it was over he would find himself on Tioman Island. His first stop though was Hong Kong.

Shortly after his arrival there he made his presence known to all the powers that be in the community. This included conferring on a number of unwilling individuals the meaningless title, "the Order of Marie the First". He thought there would be no difficulty raising the money he sought. His plans though suddenly met with an unexpected obstacle. Although the French government had "winked at his kinghood with no unfriendly eye" the king soon discovered that the recognition was conditional. They had been willing to tolerate his title as long as he was in his own territory where they had lacked any power to dislodge him. However, now that he was flaunting his position abroad and using it to solicit donations, the French authorities publicly repudiated the King and his claims, rendering him to little more than an outcast in a strange land. A mere pen stroke had reduced His Majesty to a desperate, penniless man.

Marie found this action outrageous. So he took his own audacious stance and "solemnly and publicly, in the name of himself and his people, ... repudiated France!" This was just the tip of the scandalous iceberg. The King then telegraphed Berlin asking for their protection in exchange for his kingdom's allegiance.

What happened next made Marie, in his own mind an unfairly accused martyr and in the minds of his accusers nothing short of the devil himself. His message to Germany had gone through the telegraph stations in French Indo-China and when it was discovered that Marie was offering his land to the Germans, who were bitterly despised, " the most maddening excitement prevailed in Saigon." This attention from his countrymen, hostile as it was, apparently provided what little encouragement the King needed to "take himself with a profoundness of gravity that was truly portentous." He lamented that he was being kept from his people by the tyranny of France. Furthermore, he was convinced that an order for his execution had been dispatched from Paris and lay in wait for him in Saigon.

He saw safety in the distant reaches of Europe but had no financial means for getting there. Fortunately a little help was about to come his way. Many of the Hong Kong gentleman may have laughed at his audaciousness, but the King had also earned enough respect that the business community "sent the hat round for him in Hong-Kong and had no difficulty filling it to the brim." The funds raised paid for Marie's passage back to Europe. This act of altruism had in the minds of his benefactors, levelled the playing field a little. Clifford elaborated on the motivation behind the charitable send off:

The Hong-Kong merchants, who had paid his passage to Europe partly by a desire to remunerate one from whom they had derived so much entertainment, and partly by a truly British wish to see fair play, or, as they phrased it, "to give the beggar a chance." Here was an unfortunate white man, who had undoubtedly done doughty deeds in the past, battling bravely and entirely alone against one of the greatest Powers of modern times. In spite of the ridiculous posing, the egoism, the pomposity, ... the figure of this lonely man engaged in a conflict so unequal, had in it something grand, romantic, pathetic, which fired their imaginations; and if a little ready money would help him to improve his chances and to arm him for the fray, they were not the men to withhold it ...

To the cheers of his supporters the King departed for the Continent, but his tale did not end. He did a brief stint in prison for bad debts and then once again transformed himself. Returning to his regal persona, the King set out to command the attention of no less than the British Parliament's House of Commons. He easily generated both respect and interest from some of England's leading politicians. Unfortunately his reputation lost some of its sheen when it was discovered that the woman he was passing off as Queen of the Sedangs was actually a Parisian lady of the night.

Taking this as his cue to exit, His Royal Highness disappeared from view for a while. Then, suddenly, he resurfaced in Singapore, "with a dozen Belgian gentleman at [his] heels." The scheme that the cunning King was in the midst of executing involved these members of the Belgian bourgeois, who believed they would become highly placed and paid officials in the Kingdom of the Sedangs. In exchange for their ostentatious positions they had turned over a large sum of money to the King.

So fascinated were the Belgians with their new titles and decorations that they had neglected to read their contracts closely. A neatly tucked away provision restricted all salary payments until the land of Sedang had been safely reached. It was not until the King detoured to Tioman that the Belgian gentleman were suddenly forced to notice the fine print of their agreements.

For now though, the King had a full bank account and twelve eager Ministers of assorted titles at his beck and call. This admiration was certainly not shared by the French. Once they received word of Marie's reappearance the telegraph wires began burning up with furious communiqués. Top on their list of recipients was England's Downing Street. "The ponderous and slow-moving British Government was hustled into something like nimbleness by the infectious agitation of its neighbour." A British officer was then sent round to inform the King of the government's new position. Hence forth Marie would not be allowed to make Singapore or any other British colony the base of his operations.

An indignant Marie, King of the Sedangs, replied that he wished only to return to his kingdom and that he forbade anyone to impede him. His boldness raised the hackles of the British. They fired back a curt response asserting that any action of hostility taken toward the French Government by Marie would be met with immediate arrest.

For perhaps the first time in his life His Majesty experienced the sensation of self-doubt. Having lost his nerve for arrogance Marie began to ruminate about his predicament. He envisioned France prepared to pay any ransom for his head, with England as a willing auctioneer. His paranoia was fuelled by his own sense of self-importance and the lengths which he imagined these governments would go to in order to seize him. Consequently, he moved swiftly and secretly, sneaking out of Singapore with only his Prime Minister. Left in his hasty wake were the other unsuspecting Belgian cabinet members.

Where did the mighty King of the Sedangs set his sights on landing? None other than the sheltering shores of Tioman. As a British protectorate rather than a colony, the island seemed like a safe haven for royalty on the run. Of course he could hardly have picked a more scenic spot for his seclusion. Clifford described for his readers the paradise which greeted the wayward King:

From the blue ripples of the China Sea the land runs upward, in undulating slopes, till the summit of the mountain, which is the heart of the island, is reached. The heavy Malayan jungle ... covers all the land, and fringes the sides of the twin peaks which crown the whole. The ugly difference between the Occidental and the Oriental points of view is exemplified strikingly in the names which these peaks bear ... The white man looking at the island, as his steamer ploughs and lurches past it, can find no more appropriate name to give to the lovely mountain than that of the Ass's Ears; the [Malaysian] fisherman, ... with a childlike faith in the marvels of old-world legends, names it the Dragon's Horns.

Locals lived scattered in small villages near the sandy coasts. One peaceful enclave was nestled along the island's eastern side, "at a spot where the ruddy dawn paints a lane of light along a vast stretch of uninterrupted sea...". Inward from a tiny, sheltered bay some inhabitants had found a home:

...coconut palms nod gracefully over the thatched roofs of a village; and all about the beach fishing-boats, nets, and the tackle lie in the sunlight, bearing testimony to the manner in which the Tioman folk earn their scanty livelihood. No stranger visits this bay from year's end to year's end; and the villagers are born, and love, and marry, and are laid to rest under the sudu plants without having experience of any fuller, wider life than that which their island-home affords.

Marie, built his own hut a short distance from these villagers and took refuge from his would be captors. The arrival of this white man, however, became a source of anxiety for the headman of Tioman. Bewildered by the strange foreigner's presence he rushed off to Pahang in search of counsel. There he met with the local sultan and expressed his perplexity. In a state of overwhelming consternation he lamented about the stranger in his village's midst:

"Behold, O King," he said, "this man who hath come to dwell among us is passing strange. He has the appearance of a white man; but his hair is not white (viz. "fair"), as is the manner of the white man's hair, but black like unto our own, and his eyes also are black..Moreover he is not [English] and yet when thy servant did ask him whether therefore he were a son of a Pranchis [French] behold his eyes waxed red, and he spat upon the ground...Verily, thy servant opines that he is a very wrong kind of white man having much that is black about him, lacking birth place and countrymen, and moreover he is of the faith, a Muhammadan, and no Infidel as are other white folk."

The Sultan passed the problem to a higher authority, referring it to the British Resident who served as administrative authority for the area. He in turn called in a District Officer issuing instructions for him to visit the King of the Sedangs and report the mission's results.

The man assigned to the case went by the name Fortescue. He was young but not easily intimidated so he set about his task with confident determination. He arrived at Tioman and easily located the King's home which with typical flare had been named, La Maison du Roi. Heading up the walkway, Fortescue became aware of gun barrels pointed directly at him. Unswayed from his course he calmly approached the front door. Announcing his presence with a rap of his walking stick on the closed shutters he called out for "Monseigneur le Roi" to open the door. The King, impressed by this young Englishman's display of courage, welcomed him into his home. After sharing a simple dinner the business at hand was attended to. Fortescue was explicit in his insistence that Tioman could not be used as a base of operations against the French. Having little other choice, the King promised to comply with the conditions being set before him. With that matter out of the way the two expatriates talked for many hours, sharing stories of the circumstances which had brought them to their respective situations in life. Before the evening was over a friendship had been born. The relationship would last until Marie's death, which in the end was only as surprising as the King himself.

Even on the quiet island of Tioman trouble continued to follow the King. Shortly after Fortescue returned to Pekan "a small, rotund, very hot, and exceedingly angry gentleman, in a faded frock-coat, ... sought an interview with the District Officer's superior. The overwrought individual appearing before the British Resident was the Sedangs' Minister of Public Justice. The Belgian bearing this title had been left behind in Singapore when the King surreptitiously fled to the island. Now he and his disenfranchised comrades were eager for some justice.

It seemed that the King's hasty departure had left his cabinet members destitute. Perhaps even worse, they had become a source of ridicule for having aligned themselves with the King. Thus, they could find no one to sponsor their return to Europe and felt it was only right for the King to secure their passage.

When they had contacted him with their case for assistance the return reply served only to fuel their outrage. His Royal Highness had very politely denied their request, begging financial hardship. Then with the levity and ludicrous pomp that he brought to most situations the King, with exaggerated graciousness, offered to inflate their already useless titles. While no compensation would be attached, each minister could advance one grade level. Thus, the General would be promoted to Field-Marshall, the Minister of Public Justice would become Lord High Chancellor and so on down the line.

It seemed that everyone could see the humour in this situation except for the poor and pitiful gentleman from Belgium. However, the fact remained that he and the others had signed a contract with the King. Since that agreement contained the provision which forced them to forego any pay until they had safely reached the land of the Sedangs, they had no legal leg to stand on and the Resident was forced to dismiss the case.

Life on Tioman once again returned to normal for the King. Never one to be content with tranquillity though, Marie soon grew restless and wished to return to his home among the Sedangs. Numerous sea-captains offered to ferry him up the coast. Then once ashore he could have disguised himself and stole into his own territories. However, the King ultimately refused to set sail because he was convinced that behind each offer there lurked a spy for the French or British Government. Unfortunately, with dwindling finances he also knew that his options for transport off the island were limited.

Finally, he saw no way around leaving without the money he had deposited in Singapore for safe-keeping This however presented a dilemma. Still in fear for his life he did not want to go and retrieve the cash in person. A solution eventually occurred to the King, "after much communing with himself and with Auguste, his half-bred, mangy, flesh-coloured French poodle, who was more dear to the King than any other being on earth". The clear choice seemed to be for his Prime Minister, Monsieur B., to visit the distant bank and collect the money. In fact, Marie gave instructions for the entire balance to be withdrawn. The faithful Monsieur B. did as he was told and the money was removed from Marie's bank account in Singapore. However, the winds of loyalty suddenly blew in a new direction, for neither Mr. B nor the money were ever seen again.

News of this folly reached His Majesty through three Frenchman who had stopped at Tioman while on a summer cruise. In light of this betrayal, his situation was suddenly critical. Almost out of money, he would soon be faced with the problem of obtaining food and supplies. Furthermore, he was friendless and alone on the little island. The future looked bleak for the King. Even a dash to Singapore seemed inadvisable because of the death threat he still believed hung over his head.

Although he invited the visiting Frenchmen to stay for the night, he himself could not sleep. Pondering his problems, the King roamed the beach accompanied only by the poodle Auguste. By morning Marie seemed to have some sort of plan He and his visitors took leave of the island soon after daybreak, sailing from Tioman to the mainland. They headed for Rompin where Fortescue had his home. The young Englishman was delighted to have guests and welcomed them to stay.

On the morning after their arrival a series of events took place which created a mysterious final chapter for the King's story. Marie started off the day by drawing up a will that Fortescue then formally witnessed. After that he called for Auguste and the two strolled off into the blazing sunshine. A short time later the King came running back shouting for Fortescue. He was in hysterics over a snake bite. Pointing to his leg he displayed a small puncture wound, "such as might have been made by a hypodermic syringe." There was little medical care to be offered in their remote location, but everyone went into action to try and save the King. Although he experienced no convulsions, which usually accompany a snake-bite, within one and a half hours Marie had quietly died.

Fortescue arranged for the King's burial and his body was laid to rest in a "little quiet graveyard of an obscure Malayan village." His funeral was attended by the local Muslim priests and elders as was his dying request. Then the King slipped into obscurity. Not even a headstone marks his grave. The land which he had valiantly won and his cherished kingdom were bequeathed to German Emperor Willhem. However, to Clifford's best knowledge no claim for the territory ever came from Berlin.

According to Clifford, at least one legacy was attributable to the King. He observed that if you visit Tioman Island the locals will point with pride to "strange-looking quadrupeds, half-pariah, half-poodle." These anjing pranchis (French dogs) seem to be the uncouth descendants of the beloved Auguste and the only remaining sign marking "this little fairy island ... as the erstwhile refuge of Marie David de Mayréna, Comte de Ray, and King of the Sedangs."

On 18 November 1890, an article appeared in the Singaporian, Straits Times entitled, "Reported Death of the King of the Sedangs". The paper noted that:

A rumour is current in Singapore to the effect that the Frenchman who styled himself Marie I, King of the Sedangs (a small tribe in Cochin China) has died of the effects of snake bite, in one of the small islands adjacent to Tioman.

The publication's version of what happened to the King is somewhat different than that detailed by Clifford:

As far as can be gathered it seems that the King, in March or April of this year, chartered a schooner from a merchant in Singapore and proceeded to Tioman. He appears to have had bad fortune ever since. The schooner was shortly afterwards refused his use, and he remained on the island, to all accounts cut off from communication with the outside world. Subsequently Captain Scott (late of the French barque Bengalis) and M. Villeroi purchased a large prahu, and proceeded to the island. They had been on Tioman for some weeks when provisions began to give out, and to meet this difficulty they despatched a native with 6,000 frs. in the prahu to Singapore to get another stock of provender. The native, probably never having seen so much money before in his life, promptly decamped and he has not been heard of since.

Another native was sent, this time with letters and orders, obtained the provisions from a firm in Singapore and took them back to the party on the island. The next report was that Mr. Villeroi had died, but the fact or nature of his death is not positively known, on account of so many rumours. More provisions being required an other native was sent here and this man seems to have gone to a Consul here, to whom he made several charges against the King, and afterwards the same native wrote an impolite letter to His Majesty.

Further reports would appear to indicate that the King, becoming alarmed at not receiving the provisions, set out in company with Captain Scott with the purpose of coming to Singapore. Whether from stress of weather or merely from curiosity they, after a few days sail, put into a small island, where it is alleged that the King was bitten by a venomous snake, and died from the effects about eight hours afterwards. The remains, as the report says, were interred on the island. It must be understood that we do not guarantee the accuracy of the statements so narrated; but we think it probable that they are true in substance.

~ excerpted from a soon-to-be-published book by Dr Tarek Amin and Karen Gustafson. All copyright reserved by the authors.

About the Authors:

Dr Tarek Amin has lived on Tioman Island since 1990. Dr Amin, also known as Pako, was born in Egypt near the Pyramids of Gizeh in 1959. He earned a BCom in Business Administration from Cairo University and a dual MA in Economics and International Relations from Webster University. In 1996, Dr Amin completed his PhD in History at University Malaya, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. He currently co-owns and operates a business on the island.

Karen K. Gustafson, M.P.H has had an adventurous employment life working in the fields of documentary film, public policy, public affairs, tourism and historic preservation. More recently, a Master's degree in Public Health and Nutrition opened the door to a writing and lecturing career in the realm of natural health. These professional credentials, along with extensive travel experience eventually led her to a region she embraces with particular fondness – Southeast Asia. The opportunity to work with Dr. Amin on the Tioman book brought her back to her academic roots where as an undergraduate she majored in history and studied abroad in Asia. She is also a contributor to a forthcoming book on alternative cancer treatments.